


A step you can't take back

by ItsMirkwoodGirl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Awesome Padmé Amidala, Inspired by Music, Multi, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, blogger Padmé, cultural journalist Padmé, music is crazy important in this, music producer Anakin, musician Obi-Wan, obianidala, qui-gon jinn is an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsMirkwoodGirl/pseuds/ItsMirkwoodGirl
Summary: Obi-Wan recently left his boyfriend and now sits somewhere in New York, in a bar Cody dragged him to, and is forced to play one of his songs; Padmé hasn’t written any good articles for months, because there simply is nothing to write about;  Anakin just got fired from his own music company because he didn’t find anyone to produce in years… somehow they all are at the right place at the right time, and many things are about to change for Anakin, Padmé and Obi-Wan…(Also: I suck at summaries. Sorry)





	A step you can't take back

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> This is an AU based on a movie called “Begin again” (with Mark Rufallo, Keira Knightley and wonderful music). You don't have to know the movie to understand this story (though you should definatly watch it or at least listen to the soundtrack because it's awesome. I'll put the links to all the songs at the very end of this OS.)  
> Speaking of songs, all the lyrics used in this story are from the movie, and obviously the characters aren’t mine either, but everything else is my work. Some characters might be OOC, but it's intended.  
> Hope you like it. Any kind of feedback is appreciated.  
> Also: I am not a native speaker so please forgive me if there are some grammar or spelling errors.  
> Loads of love,  
> Lotta

**A Step you can’t take back**

Cody could be a horrible person sometimes, Obi-Wan thought. He knew of course that his friend – best friend, actually – only wanted for him what he thought was best, and he appreciated it, but he really, really didn’t feel like sitting at this stupid bar. Obi-Wan really didn’t understand why Cody loved these bars so much; bars in which anyone could go on stage and play their music even if they sucked. He had tried to talk his way out of it, had tried to tell Cody that he did not want to go, thank you, but without a result. _I really don't want to find your head in the oven when I come back. You need to stop sulking!_ Of course, this was Cody’s way of saying that he was worried about Obi-Wan, but still…

“So I brought someone special with me today”, Cody said on the small stage, and Obi-Wan’s head shot up. He had tried to tune everything out so far, but he knew this particular voice on Cody, and he knew what it meant: Trouble.

“He’s far from home, same as I”, Cody continued. “And he’s a lot better as a musician than I am, so maybe he’ll come up here and play a song for you, what d’you think?”

For some unknown reason, a few people clapped and even cheered. Obi-Wan looked at Cody, shaking his head and giving him his best no-fricking-goddamn-way-look. Cody ignored it. “Alright then, Obi, my friend, c’mere, the audience wants to hear you!”

Obi-Wan sighed. He knew that his friend wouldn’t stop until he actually played at least one song. He got up from the small sofa he had been sitting on, one that was out of sight from the rest of the bar, and got on stage. Cody handed him his guitar.

“Come on, smile a little”, he told Obi-Wan. “You’re great, they’ll love you.”

“I’ll kill you for this”, Obi-Wan answered, but sat down on the stool and positioned the guitar on his right leg. With one hand, he adjusted the microphone, wincing at the sound of the shrill feedback.

“Hello there”, he said. “This is a song… it, it’s not quite done yet. It’s for everyone who’s ever felt lonely in this city.”

He started playing, and felt himself relax immediately. Maybe he wouldn’t kill Cody. Maybe he’d only hit his head with some very heavy book.

_"So you find yourself at this subway_

_With your world in a bag by your side_

_And all at once it seemed like a good way_

_You realize it's the end of the line_

_For what it's worth…_

_Here comes the train upon the track_

_And there goes the pain, it cuts to black_

_Are you ready for the last act?_

_To take a step you can't take back?"_

 

Anakin could not, no matter how hard he tried to, understand Padmé’s love for bars where anyone could play their own music. His day had been rough and he had been fired – fired from his job at the music production company he had founded, for fuck’s sake – and she had dragged him here anyways.

“The British guy is here almost every Saturday night”, Padmé said, pointing at the guy who had just left the stage. “He’s got a brother in the industry. Maybe you know him. He’s called Rex, I think.”

“Never heard of him.” Anakin took a sip of his beer. “Padmé, I really just want to go home, please…”

“Hello there”, a new voice said, and Anakin stopped talking. It was a nice voice, with a slight accent. It belonged to a man with reddish-brown hair and extremely piercing greenblue eyes who was now on the stage. “This is a song… it, it’s not quite done yet. It’s for everyone who’s ever felt lonely in this city.”

Padmé had, of course, recognized the look on her boyfriend’s face.

“Still want to leave?”, she asked, smirking.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “No.”

“I knew it.”

The man had started playing, and God, he was _good_ – really good. In fact, Anakin hadn’t heard anything this good in a while, and in his mind, several instruments joined into the song he heard right now – cello, violin, drums, piano.

“ _Did he love you_?”, the man on stage sang. His voice was full of pain, and Anakin felt sorry for him – and also the urge to fight the person who had hurt this man this badly, the person who was to blame for the hurt in that wonderful song.

“ _Did he take you down?_

_Was he on his knees when he kissed your crown?_

_Tell me what you found!_

_Here comes the rain, so hold your hat_

_And don't pray to God, 'cause_

_He won't talk back_

_Are you ready for the last act?_

_To take a step you can't take back, back, back?”_

Anakin turned to Padmé. “I want him.”

 

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the younger man in front of him. “You want _what_?”  
“I want to produce you, your music”, the man repeated. “I want to do records with you, make music with you, I… you’re fantastic, did you know that?”

“I’m not, and I don’t want to produce anything.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “I don’t write songs for profit, I write them for myself.”

“Selfish”, the man said. “You should write them for an audience. You… you clearly haven’t heard what I heard, because what I heard is wonderful, it’s amazing, your song is…”  
“You must be drunk”, Obi-Wan said. “Because nobody else heard anything special. I’m just another guy who played a bad song on that stupid stage, and I wouldn’t have done it if Cody hadn’t made me do it!”

“Well, thank God he did it!”, the man exclaimed. “Please, think about it. Can I have your phone?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I want to give you my number so you can call me in case you change your mind”, the man said. “And I need your phone for that.”  
Obi-Wan pulled a pen and a notepad from his backpack. “There.”

The man chuckled, but scribbled his number and his name onto the notepad.

“Please, think about it”, he said, before turning around and leaving. Obi-Wan could see him go back to a young woman who was waiting for him at the counter. Of course a guy like that had a girlfriend…

 

Obi-Wan walked back to Cody’s apartment. His mind was a mess, thoughts and memories twirling around in it like crazy. The man from earlier – Anakin – whose phone number was tucked away in Obi-Wan’s pocket, his offer… _I want to produce your music… you didn’t hear what I heard…_

Then, memories took over his mind, memories of the years he had spent with Qui… there was a painful sting in his heart when thinking about his former partner. His face, his voice, his smell, all of this was burned into his memories…

Qui-Gon had gotten a fantastic offer, a possibility to record several albums in a huge studio in New York. It had happened so quickly, everyone seemed to want to get Qui-Gon Jinn after he had written the soundtrack for a movie which had been crazy successful… So, they had moved to New York, and everything had been going more perfectly than ever. Well, not everything; truth to be told, Obi-Wan had felt tossed aside at times because his boyfriend had been so invested in his work, but that was okay, he was okay with stepping down a little, this was what Qui-Gon had worked for for years, it was alright… then, Qui-Gon had gone to L.A. to record music there (without taking Obi-Wan with him), and when he returned, he had been happier than Obi-Wan had seen him in a while.

“It was amazing”, he had told him, kissing him on the cheek. “I wrote and recorded a new song there. Wanna hear it?”

He had connected his phone with their Bluetooth speaker, and Obi-Wan had listened…

_I don't know if I'm the fool who's getting this all wrong_

_That's the dream, to sing the perfect boy the perfect song_

_All I know is I can't keep on wearing this disguise_

_When you're the only one that seems worth stealing my eyes_

_You take me to another space and time_

_You take me to a higher place so I'm._

_I'm ‘bout to get out of the race, I don't mind_

_You ought to know that everything's nothing if I don't have you_

… and then, he had smacked Qui-Gon in the face. Hard. It was nothing like him, but he had been so, so goddamn angry!

Obi-Wan knew how the songs Qui-Gon wrote for him sounded. They sounded different, not like this, and Obi-Wan wasn’t stupid. He had felt tears burning in his eyes as he stared at Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon had stopped the music. “You’re fucking mind reader, aren’t you?”

“Who is it for?”, Obi-Wan had demanded to know, and Qui-Gon had told him. Some boy at the label, someone he had started working with, someone he had only known for three weeks, not three years…

He had run away, which was one of the most stupid things he could have done since he did not know his way around New York, but he had managed to call Cody despite his complete confusion (which was slowly turning into panic), and Cody had picked him up – he had lived in New York for years – and brought him to his apartment, which was where Obi-Wan had been staying for the last weeks, sulking and wondering where he had gone wrong, what he had done to make Qui-Gon feel the need to look for someone else, wondering whether he just wasn’t good enough or…

He used the spare key that Cody hid in a flowerpot to let himself in, then let himself fall onto the couch that was his bed at the moment and let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

He pulled his notepad from his pocked, looked at the phone number and the name scribbled down there… Anakin Skywalker.

If that guy really was a music producer, maybe there was something about him online, Obi-Wan thought, pulled his phone from its spot under the pillow where he had left it when Cody had more or less dragged him out of the apartment, and started his search / stalking for that Anakin-guy. He didn’t have to look too long until he found an article about him:

_Anakin Skywalker is a music producer from Brooklyn who founded the Tatooine Records Label together with his partner Kitster Chanchani. The pair was responsible for discovering numerous breakthrough artists mostly in the Indie as well as Classic Hip Hop Genre. For several years Skywalker is rumoured to be dating cultural journalist and blogger Padmé Amidala._

Interesting. Obi-Wan had heard of Tatooine Records, of course; Qui-Gon had talked about it so incredibly often… so if that guy was actually Anakin Skywalker and hadn’t just written down that name…

 

Anakin’s phone rang the next morning.

“Did you mean it? What you said, yesterday?”

The man from the bar. Anakin immediately recognized the voice.

“Yeah”, he answered. “I mean, uh, yes, I meant it. Though it’s a little, uh… complicated. See, I can’t properly sign you…”

“What do you mean?”, the man asked. Anakin only now realized that he didn’t know his name. “Why would you offer to produce me if you couldn’t actually sign me?”

“I, uh, got fired. Yesterday.” Anakin scratched his head. “I didn’t find anyone who was even remotely talented enough to sign for years so Kitster threw me out. Fired me.”

A bitter laugh. “So why did you do it? If you can’t actually sign someone, why would you offer it?”

“Because I liked your song, that’s why.” Anakin got up and walked from the bedroom to the kitchen. Padmé was sitting at the table, headphones on and laptop in front of her, though she did look up for a moment when her boyfriend came in.

“I could find a way to record you anyway”, Anakin said, filling a cup with coffee. “If you really want to do it. Really, I can find a way, I will think of something. Only if you want that.”

A pause.

“Sure. Alright. Where can I meet you?”

Anakin let out a shout of “Fuck yes!” as soon as he had hung up, and his smile was almost big enough to split his face in half. Padmé pulled down her headphones. “What the hell happened?”, she asked. Anakin pulled her into a hug and kissed her – a bit too enthusiastically perhaps.

“That guy from the bar, yesterday night, I’ve got him!”  
Padmé’s eyes filled with that mischievous sparkle that always appeared when she was having some kind of genius idea.

“So you want to show Kitster that you can do your job without him, huh?”

“No, it’s not that”, Anakin said. “You’ve heard that guy, Padmé, he’s amazing!”  
“I didn’t hear any of the arrangements you told me about.” She smirked. “But actually, I might have an idea on how to record everything, given that you don’t have a studio to work at anymore.”

“I love you.”

 

Padmé’s idea was fantastic. Instead of recording in a room or a studio, they would record every song out in the open, under the sky, in a metro station, in a boat on the lake in Central Park, everywhere no matter if it was fair or stormy weather. Anakin thought it was one of her best ideas, and Obi-Wan had hugged her (even though he didn’t seem to be a hugger at all) and thanked her about a hundred times. Cody had called his brother Rex, who had been a musical producer for a while and who owned a huge amount of musical instruments and cables and microphones. He was more than willing to help them out – “this plan’s crazy enough to work, and I am bored as hell anyway” – and even found some musicians for them. One was a guy called Mace Windu, a bald-shaven dark-skinned man who played bass, the other one was a drummer named Kit Fisto. Anakin brought his half-sister Ahsoka, a snippy teenager who was extraordinarily good at playing cello, and Ahsoka brought her friend Barriss who was a violinist. Obi-Wan played guitar and sang, obviously, Cody agreed to do piano, and Anakin and Rex took care of the technical stuff. Padmé was the head of everything; she chose and found locations to record at and took photos and (occasionally, for example down in a metro station) watched out for the police.

Obi-Wan did not think about Qui-Gon at all on any of these days. He slowly forgot about him, the hurt and betrayal and anger slowly left, driven away by the warm fuzzy loving feeling that he got whenever he was around Padmé and Anakin. He kept it to himself, but he knew deep down that he was falling love with them, both of them. He didn’t think about Qui-Gon. One night (there might have been beer involved) he had told everybody about what had happened, but he did not actively _think_ about Qui-Gon… until one evening. They all were sitting in Anakin’s and Padmé’s flat, more or less just relaxing after a whole day of recording and playing, and suddenly Ahsoka let out a string of very creative curses.

“Snips! Language!", Anakin scolded, but Ahsoka showed him her phone. Anakin read the headline over a video and groaned.

“I don’t believe this!”

“What?” Obi-Wan sat up a bit straighter. “What’s wrong?”

Anakin handed him the phone. Obi-Wan felt himself go pale.

**_Qui-Gon Jinn wins Music Award – “Have fulfilled my life goal”_ **

“Obi, don’t”, Cody who was sitting next to him said. “You don’t need that guy.”

Obi-Wan ignored him and started the video. Qui-Gon was standing at a small lectern holding a trophy. His hair had gotten longer, and he had grown a beard.

“This is…”, he said. “This is truly amazing. I mean, this is what every musician, every songwriter dreams about, right? Looking back to, to where I started, I… I am holding, in my hand, the proof that everyone can fulfil their dreams and reach goals even if they started at the very bottom of the ladder. So what can I say? I think I might have fulfilled my life goal!"

Cody snorted. “Nice beard, asshole.”

Obi-Wan laughed bitterly.

“Absolute asshole”, Anakin agreed. “Don’t think about him, Obi-Wan.”

“I doubt it’s that easy”, Padmé said softly, placing one hand of Obi-Wan’s knee. “You okay?”

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling at her. “Thank you.”

Soon, everybody left; that stupid video had been quite a moodkiller. So in the end, it was only Cody, Padmé and Obi-Wan (Anakin had left without his girlfriend to bring Barriss and Ahsoka home) and a full bottle of whiskey, which soon wasn’t that full anymore.

“I just don’t understand this”, Obi-Wan said slowly, staring at his glass. “I don’t think we ever had that dream he mentioned. I don’t remember that life goal thing.”

“Could have been his personal secret dream”, Cody suggested. “And he didn’t tell you.”

Obi-Wan groaned. “God, who the hell was I dating the last three years?”

“A wannabe-rockstar”, Padmé said simply. “Just that neither of you knew it. And now he’s going the road of shows and fame and everybody-loves-me and he falls in love with it and no matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be able to make a partner happy.”

She sounded bitter enough to make Obi-Wan wonder whom she had known who had been going that _road of shows and fame_.

“It’s just that…” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just that I really loved him. So much.” He pulled a face. “Sorry, that must sound so pathetic.”

“No, it doesn’t”, Cody said. “Actually that sounds like it would make a good song.”

“Yes!”, Padmé exclaimed. “A song you should write down, and you should write it now!”

Somehow, they wrote that song, and when it was done they were sobered up enough to get Obi-Wan’s guitar and to set up his phone as well as one of the microphones and Padmé’s laptop, and when Cody finally had positioned himself behind his e-piano, Obi-Wan called Qui-Gon. He didn’t answer the call, voicemail. Perfect.

_"We take a chance from time to time_

_And put our necks out on the line_

_And you have broken every promise that we made_

_And I have loved you anyway_

_We finally find this_

_Then you're gone_

_Been chasin' rainbows all along_

_And you have cursed me_

_When there's no one left to blame_

_And I have loved you just the same_

_And you have broken every single fucking rule_

_And I have loved you like a fool."_

 

The next day, they recorded the last song for the album. Mace had found someone who was willing to let them do it on the flat roof of a high building, and when the sky grew dark, they recorded it. It was Obi-Wan’s favourite of all the songs they had written, singing it filled him with warmth and happiness and uargh, they all just enjoyed playing it!

_"Oh maybe_

_You don't have to kill so kind_

_Pretend to ease my mind_

_When baby you won't_

_Oh sugar_

_You don't have to be so sweet_

_I know who you're going to meet_

_Don't say that I don't_

_So maybe_

_I won't let your memory haunt me_

_I'll be sleepwalking_

_With the lonely_

_If you're taking me home_

_Tell me if I'm back on my own_

_Giving back a heart that's on loan_

_Just tell me if you wanna go home_

_Tell me if you wanna go home_

_Cause I'm just not sure_

_Tell me if I'm back on my own_

_How to get back there_

_Giving back a heart that's on loan_

_And I just can't bear_

_Tell me if you wanna go home_

_If you're not there."_

 

They put their album up online, for one dollar only. Anakin wanted to make it two dollars, but Obi-Wan had hit him on the head with a pillow and told him to stop with that "capitalistic nonsense, one dollar is fair, if we had published with a real label we would get only one per sell anyways." Padmé, who had posted updates on that top secret music project on her Twitter and Instagram, wrote a six page article on the making of it as well as a three page blogpost and asked all her followers to spread the news. Apparently half the world was following her social media, because two days after they had sold their music no less than eightteen thousand times. Obi-Wan couldn’t believe it. Anakin couldn’t believe it. Kitster Chanchani definitely couldn’t believe it and sent Anakin a few very ugly messages (which Anakin deleted without reading them). They celebrated together, all of them, the whole band that had formed, and when Anakin kissed Obi-Wan and then Padmé and told him that he had fallen in love with him, and when Padmé assured him that she felt the same, Obi-Wan thought he would explode because that’s how goddamn happy he was. He pulled both of them close, smiling brightly, and felt happier than ever.

 

Qui-Gon called him five days later. Obi-Wan ignored it. Qui-Gon left a message. “I really need to see you, please. I listened to that song you sent me, and your album… I need to see you.”

It took him a while, but finally Obi-Wan sent one single short text: _Alright, asshole. Let’s meet up._

They met another day later at a small café. Obi-Wan brought his boyfriend and girlfriend. He wanted to show Qui-Gon that there was no way back. He needed to do this – for himself.

“So I see you… moved on”, Qui-Gon said. “You’re good, Obi-Wan. I never thought you were this talented.”  
“Weren’t you dating for three years?”, Anakin asked. “You should have noticed it.”

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. “Obi-Wan, is there a reason you brought your manager and producer?”

Obi-Wan had to take a couple of deep breaths so he wouldn’t shout at him.

“You wanted to see me, but I am not sending them away if they want to stay”, he said finally. “That’s how it is now.”  
Qui-Gon nodded. “I thought, actually… I thought that, with that song… I thought you wanted me to come back.”

“No.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I wanted to achieve the contrary. I wanted to tell you to piss of and to stay out of my life for good.”

It felt so, so good to tell him that into the face. When Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padmé left, they were all smiling to themselves. Anakin pressed a kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek.

“So, now that this whole shit is over… I thought we could do a new thing”, he said. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

“And what kind of thing is it that you’re thinking about?”

“I mean… Europe. All of us, one big bus, our instruments and stuff, a new city every few weeks. We could do it in Berlin, or Cologne, or Paris, or London, or in Scotland, that would be like coming home for you, right? Or we could…”

Padmé silenced him with a kiss. “You’re crazy, Skywalker.”

“Am not! I mean it! Let’s do that thing. Europe. Or maybe New Zealand? I saw you have the _Lord of the Rings_ books, Obi-Wan, and Padmé loves the movies, and…”

“Yeah, no, you’re definitely crazy.” Obi-Wan laughed. “Though I don’t hate that idea.”

 

* * *

 

So here are all the songs used in this fic.

The song Obi-Wan sings at the bar: [A Step you Can't take back ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQqRX0GC_6I&list=PLxi0KLWp7_5xfZ3oY9GsV8FOfu5bYF1DM)

Qui-Gon's song: [A Higher Place](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gcf2FZoeETE&list=PLxi0KLWp7_5xfZ3oY9GsV8FOfu5bYF1DM&index=6)

The Phone song: [Like a fool](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkyLUfBt3bw)

Rooftop song: [If you wanna go home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyiQtznyCGU&index=11&list=PLxi0KLWp7_5xfZ3oY9GsV8FOfu5bYF1DM)

 

 

 


End file.
